Roxy (rox_vixit) wrote in bizarre_city, @ 2013-05-24 14:00:00 |
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Entry tags: | d'arthur westinghouse, open, roxanna hill |
September 29, 2013
Roxy and Open
Eagle's Drift In Lounge
Early evening
Drinks at a dive bar
On Friday she signed the papers and drove her black 2013 Suzuki hayabusa gsx1300r off the lot and hadn't been home since. She hadn't been wholly inconsiderate though, she had cleared it all with work first, scheduling the weekend off before she picked the bike up, then she had called Abel and her sister to let them know she was going awol for a few days and wouldn't be reachable until Monday. It hadn't been wholly true, she took her phone with her of course and could have answered it, but she had wanted the alone time with her new bike. The domesticity of her current situation had been getting to her and she had needed that time out on the road to be herself again. So she set off from the dealer and jumped on the nearest highway going anywhere else, heading off nowhere in particular.
She didn't stop all that much, riding the bike was as close to running as she was allowed to do so close to civilization and she enjoyed every moment of it. When Sunday morning came she finally turned around and headed back for San Francisco, though she wasn't in any hurry. It meant getting back to work on Monday afternoon, and bills, and house work, and the same walls of her apartment day after day, part of her did want to keep going, wanted that freedom, but she didn't give in. She had that man who made her crazy to get back to, and that sister of hers she still had something to prove to and she wasn't about to give up what she had going now with either of them.
It didn't stop her from stopping at Eagle's Drift In Lounge when she spotted it for a drink or two. She knew the place pretty well and perhaps was attracted to it because so many said it looked like a shit hole. It was quickly becoming her favorite place outside Lucky 13, mainly because of the lady bartenders, all of whom had to be over fifty, didn't follow the smoking ban and didn't take any shit from anyone. There wasn't a college kid, hipster or teeny-bopper in sight, but there was darts and pool, no one drinking anything more complicated than a screwdriver, as well as a jukebox with the most recent song being from about twenty years ago. It was damn near perfect as far as she was concerned, and tonight was made all the better as her favorite bartender, Lulu, was on duty.
She got herself a seat at the bar and ordered her usual Corona as she lit up a cigarette, striking up a conversation with Lulu when she came back with her beer. She had been telling Roxy about husband number seven and how their divorce was going when the guy to her left became agitated about something sports related that had happened on the tv above the bar. He flailed about, obviously drunk, eventually hitting Roxy hard in the shoulder and nearly making the black clove cigarette fall from her lips. She told him to watch himself and he responded with the most brilliant thing he could think of, 'you watch your bitch-ass ass, bitch' causing her reach behind his head and slam his forehead down on the bar. Thankfully it was a light push, it only knocked him out and sent him falling unconscious to the floor, any harder and she knew she would have killed him. Lulu seemed unfazed by it all though, setting up another beer for Roxy, claiming it was on the house because she shut the drunk idiot up. Roxy only smiled, "Well, if you're gonna reward me for random acts of violence I ought to give a little back. Everybody's next round is on me." she said loud enough for her to be heard by the other regulars, while she pulled a wallet from under her leather jacket that didn't belong to her.
No one was going to feel bad for the drunk on the floor, and she hadn't seen any problem at all with taking his wallet as she was hitting him. He would wake up with a sore head and empty wallet but he wasn't likely to remember her.